Sleep Aid
by Anna-Jay
Summary: Something is wrong with Aziraphale. Crowley is concerned.


**I posted this on AO3 and forgot to put this here as well. Oops.**

**Inspired by a post on Tumblr. **

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Something was wrong with Aziraphale.

Crowley first noticed about a week after the Armageddidn't. The angel fidgeted more. Jumped at the slightest sound. Flinched if anyone approached him too quickly. He would put on his best face when assisting with a customer, but Crowley could see the strain in his eyes. He figured Aziraphale was still adjusting from their respective sides finally leaving them alone. Crowley himself slept for three days once he figured Hell wasn't going to be coming after him anytime soon. However, Aziraphale acted as if Heaven was still coming to get him. Not that they would. Crowley took care of that. And it they did, well, they would regret it.

"Angel, you'll never guess what I found." Crowley announced as he sauntered into the bookshop one sunny afternoon. He was in a fairly good mood. He played the most devious of tricks earlier that morning and was still floating high on the adrenalin of it all. His mood only improved when he discovered a new little French café that specialized in desserts and he knew a certain angel would love it.

Crowley's mood, however, dimmed slightly when he received no answer from Aziraphale. Strange. The angel usually came straight away to greet him or else call out to him from the back room. Crowley thought perhaps he was with a customer. He could sense Aziraphale somewhere in the backroom. There was no one else in the bookshop.

"Aziraphale?" Crowley called out.

Again, no answer.

Crowley put up the closed sign and flipped the lock. He called out again as he approached the backroom. He was met with silence. Worry began to bubble in Crowley's stomach. Perhaps Aziraphale was asleep? He couldn't remember the last time Aziraphale slept. The angel said he tried it once or twice, but Crowley doubted that claim.

He found Aziraphale standing in front of his desk leafing through a large tome. Crowley let go of the breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"There you are."

Aziraphale jumped. He spun around, and Crowley saw the dark circles under his eyes. Aziraphale was so startled his wings manifested to the current plane. Feathers flew in the small room, and Crowley gasped at the sight.

"For Hea—Hell—whoever's sake, Aziraphale what happened to your wings?"

The beautiful, majestic white wings were in tatters. Large clumps of feathers were missing and the ones that remained were ungroomed and looked painful. Aziraphale was quick to get ahold of himself and sent them back to the ethereal plane.

Aziraphale attempted a scowled "Now really, dear. Don't sneak up on me like that." His voice trembled as he smoothed his hands over his sweater to straighten out the wrinkles.

Crowley gaped at him. "Sneak? I wasn't trying be sneaky at all. I called for you, and that's not important. What happened?" He stormed closer to Aziraphale, only stopping when the angel moved away.

Aziraphale looked lost. "I'm sorry. I…" He trailed off. He put a hand to his head and his completion became pale. Crowley reached out and grabbed him by the arm.

"Sit down before you fall."

"Now really, Crowley, I'm—"

"Sit. Now."

Aziraphale gave up any resistance and collapsed into his reading chair. Crowley miracled a cup of tea. He became more worried when Aziraphale took it with a shaky hand. He waited until he had taken a few sips before speaking.

"What's going on?"

"I have no idea what you—"

"Don't give me that, angel. Clearly, something is wrong." Crowley paused. "Are you… are you sick?"

"You know as well as I do that angels can't get sick."

"Then what is it? Why are you losing your feathers?" Aziraphale looked away. "Angel."

Aziraphale sighed and placed the tea cup down. He refused to look at Crowley. "I don't want to talk about it. It is nothing."

Crowley growled and shot to his feet. "Don't give me that. Don't think I haven't noticed. You haven't been right for weeks."

If Aziraphale could go paler he'd be translucent. He glanced up at Crowley, but couldn't hold his gaze long. He attempted a weak smile. "Really, dear, I'm fine. Probably just jitters from… you know… everything that's happened. A-and don't worry about my wings. The feathers will grow back."

"Angels don't lose that many feathers unless they—" Crowley stopped. He paled. "No, no you can't be." Fear gripped him and he knelt in front of Aziraphale. Grabbed his hands. "Please, you aren't…" he couldn't even force himself to say the words.

"No." Aziraphale assured. He freed one hand to place it on Crowley's head. "No, I'm not falling, dear. Don't worry about that. This is something else entirely. It has happened before."

Before? Crowley wished he could feel relieved, but he only burned more with worry.

"Angel, please tell me what's happening?"

Aziraphale grew quiet. He was deep in thought. He reached out and slid Crowley's glasses off. Crowley let him.

Something broke in Aziraphale. "I can't stop thinking about it." Tears welled in Aziraphale's eyes. Crowley cupped his hands around his angel's face and tried to comfort him. "I can't stop thinking about it. The trial in hell. What they had set up for you." Aziraphale's lip wobbled. "They would have… You would have—"

Crowley shushed him and wiped away the tears. "But that didn't happen. I'm right here. With you. In your bookshop with your awful tastes in decoration." Crowley joked, hoping to get a laugh but instead caused Aziraphale to sob.

"I can't, Crowley. I could have lost you. I can still hear that poor demon's screams. That could have been _you_. _I can't lose you_." Aziraphale's voice broke. The words fell away. Crowley reached out and embraced Aziraphale. Aziraphale latched onto Crowley, causing the demon to lose his balance and the two collapsed onto the floor. Aziraphale buried his face into Crowley's chest, and Crowley stroked his hair.

Crowley's mind was swimming as he tried to figure out how to fix this. The fact at Aziraphale had been suffering silently for so long made Crowley's blood boil. Damn hell. And damn him for not acting sooner. He would lament later. Right now, he manifested his wings and carefully wrapped them around Aziraphale, shielding him against the world.

Aziraphale's sobs began to subside. His grip on Crowley began to lessen. Crowley remained still. He would let Aziraphale make the first move. He would stay there for hours, days, weeks, years. As long as Aziraphale needed. He would wait.

Aziraphale finally shifted and came out from his hiding spot. His eyes were red and his face flush.

"I got your shirt wet." He mumbled.

"Angel, you just had a fucking breakdown and you are worried about my shirt?"

"You like your shirt."

"I like _you_ more."

Aziraphale gave him a weak smile. His shiny blue eyes stood out against his flush face. He looked tired.

"Angel, I think it might be best to get some sleep."

It was the wrong thing to say, for Aziraphale's face crumpled.

"No, no I can't. Angels don't sleep. I don't to sleep. I'm fine." The words tumbled and collapsed together in a near unintelligible mess. Crowley resisted the urge to roll his eyes and placed a hand on Aziraphale's mouth. Aziraphale instantly hushed.

"Angels might not need to sleep, but you are a special case. I think it might do you some good, Aziraphale."

Aziraphale looked like he wanted to protest.

"You need a break. Close up shop for a while. Come over to my place and we'll work something out." Crowley held his breath. Aziraphale finally sighed and nodded.

"Okay. Okay."

Crowley watched from the comfort of his bed as Aziraphale paced around the bedroom. They were both clad in pajamas: Crowley wearing stylish silk with Aziraphale wearing an outdated cotton monstrosity that looked cute on him. Crowley would never admit it out loud. He did have a reputation to uphold.

"For whoever's sake, angel, just get in the bloody bed already." Crowley growled. "You're making me dizzy."

"I'm sorry, Crowley. You know I don't do this." Aziraphale sighed. He stopped at the foot of the bed. He cradled his head in his hands. "I can't believe I agreed to this."

Crowley got out from under the covers and crawled closer to Aziraphale. He took his hands and gently ran his thumbs across the backs of his knuckles.

"I mean," Aziraphale started, stopped, frowned, and then continued. "I've read the importance of sleep. How healthy it is for humans and the right amount is great for the mind. It's… just… Let's just say none of my experiences have been good."

"Nightmares?" Crowley asked.

"Dreadful ones."

Crowley thought a moment. "When?"

"When what?"

Crowley rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean, angel. When did you have your nightmares?"

Aziraphale suddenly became interested in an immaculate spot on the floor.

"Angel."

Aziraphale continued to avoid eye contact.

"Aziraphale."

Aziraphale sighed, almost pained. "If you really must know, it was after I gave you holy water."

Crowley froze. Aziraphale continued. "I… I worried about you day and night after I gave it to you. I thought, perhaps that would be the last time I would ever see you. I regretted it. I thought about taking it back, but I feared coming to your flat and—" Aziraphale choked on his words. Couldn't continue the sentence. "I threw myself into reading. I read my entire collection twice before I gave up. It wasn't working, you see. So, I tried sleeping. You enjoy it. I thought, perhaps, it would be a good way to distract myself. Before I knew it, the dreams came and I realized I had a strong imagination." Aziraphale chuckled. It sounded more like a sob. "I stressed myself so much nearly all my feathers fell out. Which, let me tell you, distressed me more. I –"

Crowley stopped him. He tugged Aziraphale onto the bed and positioned him until he was laying down. Aziraphale allowed himself to be manhandled to where Crowley wanted him. Then when everything was perfect, Crowley miracle the covers on top of them and curled himself around Aziraphale. He was so wrapped around Aziraphale it was almost unnatural. A position only possible for a snake in a human's body.

Crowley settled his forehead against Aziraphale's. "I promise, angel. I'll be here when you wake up."

Aziraphale gave him a watery smile. "You'll wake me up if I have a nightmare?"

"I will, but you won't have any bad dreams. I won't let it happen."

"Dear, you cannot prevent nightmares."

"How do you know?" Crowley winked. "You've never slept with me before to know."

Aziraphale's face flushed. He gently pinched his arm. "Silly serpent."

Crowley flicked his tongue at him. He reached his hand up and ran it through Aziraphale's hair. He watched as Aziraphale's eyes slowly began to slip close. He gave each eye lid a kiss before snuggling in to keep watch over Aziraphale.

No bad dreams dared to trespass into Crowley's lair.


End file.
